


Illya's In Black

by mvernet



Series: The Blond Beatle Affair [5]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode Related, Episode The Finny Foot Affair, M/M, Songfic, The Beatles - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-24 00:37:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6135463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvernet/pseuds/mvernet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Illya’s in black, and Napoleon is blue. Tell me, oh, what can he do?</p><p> </p><p>A songfic inspired by Baby’s In Black by The Beatles<br/>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xwuIHR_e4yI</p><p>Ooooo, baby! A gender pronoun nightmare of a song! Even Paul and John seem to have trouble getting all those heshehimhers right. On some of the studio versions, near the end, John accidentally sings  a her instead of a him (or is it a him instead of a her) and Beatle giggles ensue. Squeeee!  Many gender pronouns have been respectfully changed in the writing of this songfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Illya's In Black

Oh dear, what can I do?  
Baby's in black and I'm feeling blue  
Tell me, oh what can I do?  
~The Beatles~

Napoleon nearly leapt out of the cab from the airport, clutching his small duffle bag and digging in his pocket to produce his wallet and pay his fare. He wasted a radiant smile on the surly New York cabbie and fairly skipped down the stairs of the tailor shop front of U.N.C.L.E. headquarters. He was back from London, The Finny Foot Affair nicely tied up for his boss. He smiled again and adjusted his tie before entering the shop. Hopefully, somewhere in the building was a beautiful blond Russian agent who was supposed to be recuperating from two gunshot wounds to the arm. Napoleon was anxious to see how well he was recovering.

_Oh, I do hope Illya’s alright. He was so pale when I left. Blood loss is not something to be taken lightly. I don’t think he spent more than two hours in London Medical. I did give him an order to recover completely. He gave me a smile in return. That smile. He probably ignored me and went straight to work. Stubborn, stoic, infuriating, Russian Ice Prince. I have such wonderful plans for the next few days. I can’t wait to see him and start thawing him out. I wonder if my Solnishko has thought of me at all._

Napoleon’s debriefing with Waverly seemed to take days instead of hours. He ingested two cups of strong coffee just to help himself focus on the details of the mission. Finally, Waverly was satisfied. Napoleon was glad he refrained from asking Waverly about Illya. He didn’t want his all-knowing boss to become curious as to why his best agent was so distracted by the thought of his field partner. It was Waverly who brought up the subject.

“By the way, Napoleon. Excellent job tending to Mr. Kuryakin in the field. The doctor tells me that you may have saved his life. A main artery was nicked. If he had been alone, he would have bled to death.”

Napoleon blanched at the thought but recovered quickly. He controlled his voice. “It was nothing special, Sir. My corpsman training kicked in. Old soldier and all that.”

“Well, be that as it may, I and I’m sure Illya, are sincerely grateful. Do look in on him. I believe he has been spending his time with Mr.Tubman in Section Eight. Make sure that he gets his rest. I want him in top form when he is taken off medical leave next week. Oh, you may take the week as well. See to it that Illya is ready to return to the field by then.”

Waverly’s voice was also controlled. The words he said were what any boss might use when concerned for the health of an exemplary employee. But Napoleon noticed that there was something more in Waverly’s tone. Regret? Anxiety? Love? He filed the thought away in a box in his head labelled, _How To Be A Good Number One._

_Let yourself trust and love a chosen few. It will keep you in touch with your humanity._

“I’ll go find him and tuck him in for a nap, Sir.” Napoleon stood and smiled.

Waverly chuckled. “I would like to see you try, Mr. Solo. You might find yourself minus an arm or two.”

~~~O~~~

Napoleon stood outside of Sam Tubman’s lab and looked in through the Plexiglas window in the door. On the other side of the glass was Illya, sitting on a black stool, peering intently into a black microscope. He was wearing his black rimmed glasses and every so often would pick up a black pen with black ink and jot down observations in a standard U.N.C.L.E. issued black notebook. He wore black boots, tight black chinos, and a black turtleneck sweater. Somehow, the diabolical Russian had found a black sling made from a thick brocade fabric to nestle his injured arm in. The only thing not in black was a gunmetal gray tray from the commissary with an untouched lunch on it.

Napoleon noted that the Coke, carrot sticks and sandwich on whole wheat bread could not have been picked out by Illya himself. He wondered who had tried to get him to eat, and why Illya had not eaten. What was this gypsy spell that his partner put on people to make them care for such a reclusive, rude, sulky Russian. Napoleon was transfixed. His mouth opened slightly. His soft brown eyes reflecting his frustration.

_How in the world am I ever going to win his love? How am I ever going to make him mine? Look at him all in black! Forever in mourning for his family, for his innocence, for his broken heart. How can I break through the walls of the cold tomb he lives in. He has experienced such horror, such pain. And that him, the one who broke his heart, how can I compete with a shadowy memory?_

He thinks of him and so he dresses in black  
And though he'll never come back, he's dressed in black  
Oh dear, what can I do?  
Baby's in black and I'm feeling blue  
Tell me, oh what can I do?

I think of him, but he thinks only of ‘him’  
And though it's only a whim, he thinks of him  
Oh how long will it take  
Till he sees the mistake he has made?  
Dear what can I do?  
Baby's in black and I'm feeling blue  
Tell me, oh what can I do?

Napoleon sighed, then started to smile at the vision showcased in the small window. 

_Yet. He can’t hide the brilliant sun that resides in his soul, escapes to subtly shine in his hair, that you can see when you look into his blue sky eyes…_

Napoleon abruptly stopped waxing poetic as his view of Illya was grayed out by a large black storm cloud of a man. Sam quietly opened the door with a glance at the oblivious Russian. He put his huge finger into Napoleon’s chest and not so gently pushed him away from the door.

“So you’re back, Solo. I see there’s not a scratch on _you!”_ The older man’s voice was deep, low and intimidating. Napoleon shook him off and backed up. He disgustedly wiped imaginary dirt from his lapels.

“Nice to see you too, Sam,” he said with a sarcastic smirk. “Ahhh, how’s Illya?”

“Shot. Twice. Thanks to you! Do you know how valuable that man is? Do you know how brilliant he is? Do you know what he’s been through and survived?”

“He told you about his past?”

“Why the hell not? Why shouldn’t he trust me. I’m not a self-centered, egotistical, super spy who needs a expendable Russian partner to do his dirty work and catch flying bullets for him!” Sam was growling at this point.

Napoleon felt a rush of emotions. He wanted to punch Sam, but Sam was defending Illya. He was jealous, but Sam was only acting like an overprotective parent. Napoleon made a quick decision.

_I like this big old ox. But he sure doesn’t like me!_

“Look, Sam. I know how valuable Illya is. You know it was me who saved his life, right? He would have bled to death without my help.” Napoleon was not above fighting dirty as Waverly’s earlier words came out of his mouth.

“I warned you not to get him shot, didn’t I?” Sam’s voice rumbled a threat.

“Yes, you did, Sam. And you will never know how sorry I am it happened. I swear to you I will protect Illya with my life and I would have gladly have taken those bullets for him.” 

Sam grew silent and backed away.

“You promise me? You’ll watch his back like a partner should?”

“I promise, Sam. I’ll do whatever I can to keep him safe and… happy.”

Dear what can I do?  
Baby's in black and I'm feeling blue  
Tell me, oh what can I do?

Sam scowled. Then softened his face and opened the door. Illya didn’t look up.

“Son? Look what the Section Two alley cat dragged in.” Sam turned to Napoleon and smiled. Napoleon shivered. “Maybe you can get him to eat and sleep, Hot Shot. He won’t listen to me.”

Illya looked up.

“Napoleon!” 

The partners moved towards each other, happy grins forming on each face. Napoleon was surprised and pleased when Illya grabbed him in a bear hug and placed two kisses, Russian style, on each cheek. Napoleon held tight. Behind Illya, he could see Sam’s threatening glare as if to say, “You hurt him, you die.” He closed his eyes.

Illya backed off and took a good look at Napoleon.

“No new scars, Dorogoy. Good! Good! I am glad you returned safely.”

“Illya, did you miss me?” Napoleon tried a charming head turn. Sam coughed. Loudly.

“Of course. I can not wait to be back in the field. Mr. Waverly says one more week.”

“He gave me the week off to get you back in shape.” Napoleon winked. Illya looked down and blushed. Sam sighed. Loudly.

“Sam,” Illya scolded. “Do not be like that! You know that the lab and you are my first love. “ Illya walked decidedly over to where Sam was perched on a lab stool and patted his back. “I will be here as often as I am able. This experiment with the aging cells of Finny Foot is exciting, Da?”

“Da, son. But I’ve told you before, you are wasted in Section Two. You are going to get yourself killed!”

“Sam, I have Napoleon. I could not be safer.” Napoleon’s heart filled at the honest words. Sam mumbled, “I feel so much better.”

Napoleon vied for Illya’s attention. “Sam says you haven’t been eating. Well, we can’t have that. How about you joining me for dinner and then perhaps,” Napoleon pulled two tickets out of his breast pocket, “ a bit of Jazz at _Birdland?”_

Illya’s eyes grew wide with delight. He grabbed the tickets out of Napoleon's hand. “How did… _Birdland_ … when… these are real!” Illya sounded amazed. Sam snorted.

Napoleon threw Sam a disparaging look. “I know the owner. I stopped by after I landed, on my way here. I thought it would be appropriate for two grounded UNCLE agents to make an appearance at _Birdland._ ” Illya’s smile was dazzling, his eyes dancing. Napoleon waited till Illya looked up then hit him with, “Thelonious Monk is playing tonight.”

“Thelonious Monk? _The_ Thelonious Monk? He's... he's my favorite jazz artist!” Napoleon nodded, delighted with Illya’s reaction.

“Napoleon. No one has ever given me so thoughtful a gift. I am… more than grateful.” Illya stared at the tickets and fought back tears. He cleared his throat. “Thank you, Dorogoy.”

Oh how long it will take  
Till he sees the mistake he has made?  
Dear what can I do?  
Baby's in black and I'm feeling blue  
Tell me, oh what can I do?

Napoleon reached for Illya’s black scarf and black overcoat. He tipped Illya’s head up and wrapped the scarf around his neck. Illya laughed nervously, overwhelmed by Napoleon’s attention. Napoleon’s fingers trembled at the sound. He simply smiled at his partner.

_Oh, Solnishko. I could spend forever making you laugh like that._

He held the overcoat as Illya slipped his good arm in the sleeve. Napoleon wrapped the coat around Illya’s injured arm, buttoned the coat and placed his hand on Illya’s back to lead him out the door. Napoleon nodded at Sam, knowing he would clean up. Sam nodded back and gave Napoleon a thumbs up.

He thinks of him and so he dresses in black  
And though he'll never come back, he's dressed in black  
Oh dear, what can I do?  
Baby's in black and I'm feeling blue  
Tell me, oh what can I do?

Napoleon felt a little smug that his plan had worked. Illya was by his side walking the chrome and gunmetal halls of U.N.C.L.E., cheerfully chattering about _Birdland_ and the music he loved. Illya wasn’t thinking of the other _him_ , the one who broke his heart.

~~~~O~~~

TBC  
Stay tuned! More Songfics! More Beatles! More Napoleon & Illya!


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